


Death Of The Bachelors

by hirusen



Category: DarkStache - Fandom, Darkiplier - Fandom, Who Killed Markiplier, Wilford Warfstache - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Feels, Biting, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs With Teeth, Body Worship, Bondage and Discipline, Cock Rings, Comfort Food, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Play, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fingerfucking, Forehead Kisses, Gentle Kissing, Gentleness, Handcuffs, Hugs, I'm NOT!, I'm Sorry, Kissing in the Rain, Knifeplay, Lingerie, Love Confessions, M/M, Master/Pet, Memories, Neck Kissing, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Power Exchange, Rain, Rough Kissing, Sex Toys, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Slow Dancing, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Verbal Fights, Verbal Humiliation, Who's Ready For A Feels-Trip?, comfortable silence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 01:50:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12665829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hirusen/pseuds/hirusen
Summary: Dark, no matter how many years he lives through, can't forget the memories that haunt both him and the man he loves most.





	1. After The Fall

He reached for his cane that his friend had placed on the stand, taking full control of the body he was in, pushing out the other being and leaving them in the mirror. He picked up the distant sound of the Colonel's broken laughter, so easily heard was his madness. He walked towards the sound and the man, a deep-seated desire to calm him overcoming him. "Damien! There you are, you rapscallion! You gave me quite the scare!" He spoke, rushing up to wrap his arms around Damien's body. "Wil..." He spoke, the nickname rolling off his tongue like it always belonged in his breath. "That was a good joke! Y-You almost had me, friend!" The warm brown eyes he was staring into were rimmed with tears, Damien pulling him into his embrace, holding him tightly.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all of this, Colonel." The man just curled closer to the one he held, his fingers digging into the jacket he wore. Damien noticed then just how different he was now; yes, he had  _a_ body again, but all the color had drained from his skin. His flesh was now gray and he could see the blue and red auras that coiled around his shell. Compared to the vibrate red of the Colonel's suspenders and yellow of his shirt, he was surprised that he didn't say anything. "...Let's go home, William." He tensed up then, Damien wondering if he said the wrong thing. "I...I didn't kill anybody...right?" His eyes were leaking salty water now, marking his skin with their trails. "No, my dear, you didn't. Everyone is okay."

His broken laughter echoed in the room again. "T-That's right! I...I didn't kill anybody! I didn't..! I..." "Wil. Sh. Come here." Damien pulled the man closer to his body, noting just how sharp the contrast of their body heat was; he held the trembling man within his arms, rocking him back and forth as he whispered soothing tones to him. "Everything is alright. You didn't do anything wrong; you didn't kill anybody." He felt suddenly connected to the manor that once belonged to their childhood friend; it showed him that everyone within the manor that was killed, were meant to die this evening. The Colonel was just the catalyst for their final act.

Damien felt something animal twist deep in his soul at the realization of the Colonel's role, a primal rage that shattered his shell; a soft ringing started in his ears, noticing that William heard it too. He took a slow breath, gaining control over his body again, and the ringing left. "I..." William started, pulling himself away from his closest friend, "I want to be alone right now." Damien sighed, gracing him with a warm smile as he stroked the back of his hand against his friend's cheek. "Alright. You know where to find me when you want to talk." Damien spun in his heel and left the manor, heading back to City Hall.

* * *

As he shut the door behind him, he felt the swamp of unburdened emotions slam into him: rage, betrayal, despair, grief, longing, loathing, anxious. He felt as his shell cracked and reformed over and over, as new, foreign energy swarmed in his veins. He felt as his iris's changed from the matching brown of the Colonel's to coal black, his powers settling as he reigned them back under his control. Damien took a steadying breath, walking over to the chair behind the desk and sank into it. His hand came over his face, trying to understand what was happening to him.

He knew that Celine had given him some of her powers so that he and his friend could survive in their body, but this... This was much different than her powers; darker, even.  _This feels...like the manor..._ He's always known that something was wrong about the manor his late friend Mark owned, and now he understood what that was; that manor granted the owner immortality...at a price. The owner could never successfully commit suicide to end their life, nor could they pass from simple old age, for they never age at all. In order for them to die, they had to be killed by another's hand.

That knowledge alone made Damien's stomach turn. The Colonel  **had** indeed killed Mark, but it was most likely during the point in the party where everyone was too drunk to remember much detail. "How long have you suffered in that place, dear friend?" He asked the ceiling, feeling his own tears gather in his eyes; closing them, he focused on the sensation of his tears rolling down the sides of his face as he tried to bind these new powers into place. Finally, every single ability he had clicked into place and felt his shoulders dropping as he could relax.

 _Don't get too emotional...you'll crack your shell if you do._ He noted as he was forced to push away all emotion he was feeling onto the back burner, keeping a choking level of calm around him. A knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. "It's open." He called, and he wasn't surprised when William walked into his office. "Calmed down, Wil?" He nodded, striding over to where Damien sat, but he didn't even look into his eyes; they were locked onto his dress shoes, his cheeks visibly stained from his earlier tears. "William? Are you al--" He was cut off by the Colonel's lips covering his own.

Desire sparked in his blood at the contact, most likely William's emotions bleeding into him, but he felt his shell starting to break again, so he forced himself to show dis-interest; William pulled away, confused and hurt. "Damien?" "Yes, Colonel?" The man pulled away from the Mayor's personal space, the pain his heart felt so clear in his eyes by Damien's monotone response. "I...I-I thought that..." Damien raised a brow, waiting for him to finish his query. "Nevermind. Forget this ever happened." Damien gave him no kind of reply, not wanting to risk hurting the man anymore that he just did. "I'm going away for a while." The Colonel stated, his hands steeled, but his eyes showing all of his emotions. "Where to?" "I don't know. I just...need to get away for a while." Damien stood then, wanting to embrace the man before him, but sensing that his shell would crack if he did and he wasn't about to have the closest person to him loose trust in him. "I'll miss you while you're gone, friend." "As will I. I'll contact you when I get back." Damien nodded and watched as the Colonel turned and headed for the door.

"William?" The named man stopped, keeping his back to the other. "...Be safe." "...I will." He softly spoke as he took the door handle in his grasp and closed the door without another word.


	2. 77 Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if I'm remembering it right, Mark had wanted to set Who Killed Markiplier? in the early 20th century which would be, in my mind, 1940. That's why the title is 77 Years Later; that's how many years have passed since the events of Who Killed Markiplier?.

He sat in his office, reading over the paperwork before signing it. It was mindless work, but he never minded it; since he had been the Mayor of the city, he's use to the ridiculous amount of paperwork. He heard a knock on the door before it opened, a man with striking resemblance to himself walking in. "How are you, Dark?" Dark turned to look at his master, having joined his many personalities, more commonly referred to as egos, he uses for his YouTube channel. "I'm fine, Mark. Was there something you needed?" Mark Fischbach sighed as he crossed his arms. "I was asking how you were since it's been over four days since you last ate." Dark finally noticed his stomach yelling at him and released a breath. "I'm assuming you brought me something to eat?" He hummed, reaching for the paper bag he had placed on the floor and handed Darkiplier the take-out box.

"It's Cracker Barrel before you ask." A corner of his mouth twitched up; Mark did like their food a lot. "Thank you." He's been apart of Mark for 5 years now, having wandered the earth for a solid 72 years before finding the young man in Ohio. Of course, he wasn't fully alone when Dark came into the picture; a face he hadn't seen in those 72 years was with him as well, but judging by his reaction when Mark re-introduced them, he didn't remember him.  _I suppose that's for the best._ He was just relieved that his old friend was finally back, safe and sound.

Mark was leaning against the door frame, his eyes studying Dark as he ate, noticing that he kept glancing down to the papers next to him, undoubtedly reading them over. "Perhaps you should take a break? Let your eyes rest for a moment." Darkiplier glanced to Mark from the corner of his eye. "Is that your request, or Wilford's?" Wilford Warfstache was still as eccentric as he was back then, worrying over him even though he doesn't remember him. "Both of us. Will you please spend some time with him? He's driving everyone nuts." Mark asked, the wear of looking after Wilford clear in his voice. "Alright, Mark. Let me finish eating and I'll accompany him for a while."

Fischbach released a breath of relief at his words, walking closer to the man and placing his hand on his shoulder. Darkiplier didn't like people touching him, but if someone did once in a blue moon, he didn't mind it; the lone exception to that rule was Warfstache, which Markiplier still doesn't know why. When it comes to anything about Dark and his past before becoming a part of Mark's life, he was shockingly tight-lipped about it. "You and Amy doing alright?" He asked, causing Mark to jump a little. "Yeah, we're fine." "Good. Hate for you to lose a beautiful woman like her." Dark felt as Mark lightly smacked his shoulder; the man always hated when he tried to dig into his personal relationships.

"Why are you also so interested in my relationships?" He didn't expect for Dark's shoulders to sag, leaning back in his chair. "Because I've lost all of the people I cared for deeply once; I don't want you to go through the same fate, Mark." Mark wasn't ready for that answer. "...Do you miss them?" "Every moment I'm alive." He replied, reaching up and touching Mark's hand that was still on his body; Mark didn't say anything, just turned his hand around and let Dark hold it. Mark's come to the understanding that, while Dark doesn't talk about his past (at least, not until now) he's still affected by it, so these moments are very important to him.

After a long space of strangely comfortable silence, Dark pulled his hand away, closing up the box and moving it over to a spot on the desk where there was no papers. "Walk with me, darling." Dark spoke as he stood, his arm bent and held out for Mark; he coiled his arm around Dark's, falling in stride with him as he lead them out of the office. Mark will never get over how much of a gentlemen the man was, especially since he knew he was a social manipulator. They walked down the halls and stairs of the building Dark worked in; it was an abandoned City Hall building, not a soul around besides Dark, and Mark when he came to make sure the being didn't die.

Dark's cane clicked against the stone stairs as they descended them, Dark releasing his master's arm to pop open the passenger side door to his car, holding it as Mark climbed into the car. He still wasn't as easy being in Dark's car, no matter how many times he drives him home; it was an black Audi A3 from the early 2000's and it was still in excellent condition. Mark was always surprised by how high class everything Dark owned was, deeply wondering just what his life was like before. Dark felt Mark's eyes on him as he climbed into his car, buckling in and starting up the vehicle. "...Dark, tell me the truth." Mark stated after a half hour into the drive back to his home. "Why are you so protective of me and Wilford?" It was something that nagged at Mark's thoughts, something he was never able to puzzle out.

"The truth?" Dark asked, casting his eyes onto the man next to him as he nodded. He sighed. "The truth is, Mark, you act exactly like a late friend of mine before he started to change; same name, same image, same voice, same personality. Wilford...is a more complicated reason." "I'm willing to listen." Mark said as they pulled up to a red light. Dark felt his shell cracking a little, the ringing that came with it a high buzz in the small space of the car. "Dark," Mark spoke as his hand covered one of Darkiplier's, "it's okay. I don't want to do anything to him, and I won't say anything to him either. Promise." He inhaled a slow breath through his nose, releasing it just as slow as his shell reformed and the ringing stopped.

"Would you believe me if I said that Wilford's real name was William?" He asked and saw as Mark's jaw dropped. "As I said, I have lost everyone I have ever held dear to me, expect for Wil." He released his foot from the break, turning the corner and continued to speak. "When he still went by William, he was a Colonel in the military--those of us who were close enough to be called a friend usually called him Colonel--though he was in a spot of trouble back then. He had been a suspect in a hunting accident and he owed our friend Mark a bit of money that he had loaned him. But, he found the love of his life and was happy despite everything." Mark felt so wrong at the moment; he had no idea that Wilford had such a colorful past.

"What happened to him?" Mark asked, but Dark just glared at him. "What happened to  _us_ is something I don't wish to discuss." Fischbach swallowed nervously, suddenly feeling like prey under the eyes of a predator. Dark sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Forgive me, darling. These topics are just...hard to explain to someone who wasn't there." Mark took a hold of Dark's wrist, not sure what to say; Dark just removed that hand from the steering wheel and held Mark's. "I want Wil to remember these things on his own, but at the same time, I feel the same way you do now, wanting to tell him all the things he doesn't remember so he can. But," the being shook his head, "that would only hurt him more. Mark, I'm sure you know by now, but Wilford doesn't fully understand the concept of death; he knows that humans can be killed, but he thinks that, eventually, the come back to life. He doesn't understand that that's not how nature works, at least not anymore."

"Is it because of what happened to you two?" Mark softly asked as Dark pulled up to his home. "Yes." Dark's short reply was all he was getting now that they were in the place where Wilford was. Since his childhood friend didn't age after all of these years, he knew that the manor had cursed him as well. Getting out of his car, Dark opened the passenger side door and grinned softly at Mark as he exited. He took Dark's offered arm without a word, walking with him back to his home. Fishing out his keys, Mark unlocked the front door of his house and jerked back slightly as it was yanked open, arms enveloping him.

"You're back! Welcome, welcome!" Wilford exclaimed, excited as ever. His eyes darted to the right when he spotted that Mark didn't come back alone and felt as his face fell from shock for a brief moment, an even brighter smile cracking his lips as he snaked his limbs around the demon's form. "Dark! It's so good to see you, friend!" Dark groaned softly, but returned the hug, knowing that he wouldn't be released until he did; while he was glad that his old friend was alright, his enthusiasm wore him down greatly, making it difficult to keep his shell intact. "Did you eat?" "Yes, Mark brought me some food from Cracker Barrel; I'm guessing that he bought enough for the rest of the home to enjoy as well." Dark said as he slipped into the house, sensing as Wilford started following him around like a puppy. It wasn't uncommon to see Warfstache tailing Darkiplier around, even though the others could see just how easily Wilford irritated the being.

"Have you been resting well? Been busy with work?" "I have, and yes. Thankfully, it's nothing I can't handle." "Oh, good! I was worried that you might have had too much to do, or perhaps too little and were stuck there, bored out of your bloody mind!" Dark chuckled lightly at the last part; while William is American born, his mother is from Britain, and it seemed that he had spent several years with her after they had parted ways, the accent sticking to his manner of speech. "Is there something you'd like to do, Wilford?" He asked after the man rambled on for a good five minutes.

"I...hm..." Wilford paused in his thoughts, having to actually think of what he wanted to do now that the object of his attention was in his sight. He snapped his fingers after a period of quiet. "How about a drink? I'm sure you could use one to unwind!"  _Well, he's not wrong._ Since he and William were human before turning into what they are now, they aren't affected by Mark's inability to consume alcohol, so they were part of the few egos who could drink. "I'd welcome it. I'll even let you pick what we have tonight." Dark's always known that when Wilford starts drinking, he's going to get plastered within the hour and will be in no form to leave the house, at least not without help. The glee in his grin caused Dark to shadow one as well, following the ex-military man down the hall to the kitchen.

Dark was the one to get the glasses, knowing what a sensible amount of liquor was, unlike his friend. Wilford had decided that they'd drink in his room, Dark thankful that he had; he tends to become a handful if there's a chance that he'd come across someone other than Darkiplier, hitting on them and making rather lewd advances towards them, even when they've shown a clear non-interest of his actions (he gets really bad if that person is Amy). Turns out that Wil wanted to reminisce this evening, having picked whiskey as their poison of choice.

* * *

Dark was giggling slightly as the reporter stumbled back into his chair, nearly spilling his glass. "That was almost a shame. Not nice to waste good alcohol, Wil." The nickname had him laughing as well. "It's only a waste if it doesn't spill onto your lap, my dear!" Darkiplier raised a brow, intrigued. "Oh? Is that so?" He leaned forward, crossing his legs as he did, his glass gently held between his fingers as it dangled by his left side. "And why wouldn't it be a waste then, love?" "Well, if it spilled onto your lap, I'd have to clean it up; perhaps I'd do that with my tongue instead of a towel."

The growl that left his throat had the expected effect on Wilford; his eyes went wider and he licked his lips, the desire in his melted chocolate eyes so painfully clear. "Are you saying that you want to suck my cock, Wilford?" He purred, keeping his legs crossed as he leaned back in his chair, taking a swig of his drink. "What if I do?" It was an all too familiar game of cat and mouse; a dance they've done so many times that they no longer need the music to keep the rhythm. Warfstache stood, lengthening his stride to get to where Dark sat quicker, and planted himself in front of the demon, eyes filled with determination to get what he wanted.

Dark uncrossed his legs, beckoning Wilford closer, holding his hand up when he wanted to him to stop. "On your knees." And he was doing so before Dark even finished his sentence. "Look at you," Dark purred, placing his glass on the table next to his chair, "obediently falling to your knees before I even say so. So pretty like this." Dark ran his fingers through Wilford's pink locks, the black of his natural hair bordering the part that was dyed. He remembers William's old facial hair, big and bushy, but now it was thinner, curled up at the ends and was a matching shade of pink to his hair. "...Pink was always a good color on you, Wil." Dark said, flashes of a happier time stirring his thoughts.

Wilford's cheeks were flush, the alcohol having took hold of both of them a few hours ago; Dark never minded these moments with the man who didn't really remember him because his inhibitions were lost when he was intoxicated. That meant, in simple terms, that he didn't have to be concerned that his shell would break so he could finally give William the intimacy that he wanted all those years ago. Dark didn't even need to say what he wanted Warfstache to do, his hands already undoing the button and zipper of his slacks, tugging them down his thighs, freeing his half-hard member to the cold air. "Fuck..." He breathed as the reporter lapped at the head, the tip of his slick muscle dipping into what little foreskin he had. "That's it, Wil. Good boy." He purred, his hand combing through the man's dyed hair affectionately.

Wilford was so eager to take all of Dark into his mouth, but he knew that he'd get disciplined if he did something too soon; the demon always needed to be in control, even more so when they did things like this. "Mind the teeth, kitten." Dark remembered that Wil wasn't the best at not scraping his teeth against his dick when he's drunk, but then again, he never really complained when it did it either. "Enough." Dark sharply commanded, tugging at Wilford's chin to pull him off his cock. Wilford whined, his eyes showing his confusion. "Was I being bad?" "No, handsome, you weren't. But I don't want to cum from your mouth this time." The man raised a brow. Dark said nothing, just patted his lap and let the man crawl into his embrace. Dark leaned forward and kissed William's throat, hearing and feeling as he gasped.

Tenderly, Darkiplier slid the straps of his suspenders off his shoulders, popping open the buttons of his shirt, shoving the yellow colored fabric away from what he wanted. "Dark?" "Sh, I have you, love." Wilford was trembling, his desire and fear seeping into Dark when he touched his naked skin. "There's no need to be afraid, my dove." The Colonel's arms coiled around Dark after a moment, collecting himself as the being under him let him stroke his hair away from his coal black eyes. "May I kiss you?" "Yes." Dark slid his hands onto Wil's waist as the man leaned down, helping him stay upright as he planted his lips onto Dark's. His movements were sloppy compared to the elegant dance of Dark's lips against his own, but he didn't care; he always got high off of the taste of Dark. Wilford moaned as Dark swiped his tongue against his lower lip, asking him for entrance, which he ecstatically gave, groaning as his slick muscle darted into his mouth, pressing and weaving with his own.

Dark elected more moans from Wilford, swallowing them all, as he let his fingers dance over his sunkissed flesh, giving extra attention to the places he knew William was sensitive. "Dark..!" He growled then, roughly grabbing a handful of his hair and snapping his head back, sinking his teeth deeply into the man's suddenly exposed throat. "Not tonight, Wil." "Sir..?" He tried again, and again, he got bit. "Ah...ah...Master?" Dark growled, his annoyance getting clearer as he marked William's throat once more.  _Damn it, I though he might've remembered..._ Back then, they had messed around like this before, William just as drunk and just as nervous, reacting the same way to the same stimulation, and Dark had hoped that he might have recalled something, even if he thought he was making it up.

"Then, what? What do you want me to call you?" "...Damien." It was so strange to say his original name after 77 years, but the ex-Mayor was praying that maybe, hearing his name would cause William's memory to spark again, even if it wasn't tonight. "Damien." Wilford parroted after Dark released his hair, locking their eyes together as he said the name; Wilford felt his heart jump at the sincerely warm smile he recieved. "You look so handsome when you smile like that, Damien." "I'll only ever smile like this for you, Wil, my rose, my dove." He cooed, pushing up to capture the man's lips once more, removing his suspenders and shirt. Warfstache jumped with a groan as Dark palmed his hard cock through his pants, rocking his hips into his hand. "Damien..." His name was sweet as it dripped out of William's lips, rubbing his hand against his groin with more pressure as he left his lips in favor of dressing his throat, shoulders, and chest with kisses.

"I'm not use to you being so gentle, Damien." Normally, Damien would still have William on his knees, holding his head still as he fucked his mouth, knowing that Wil loved it when he choked on his cock, his hand pumping his dick furiously to try and chase his release as quickly as he was getting Damien to it. "I know, Wil. But I wanted tonight to be special." Wilford moved away from Dark slightly, showing he wanted the man's attention. "Why?" Dark chuckled brightly. "Don't you remember? Today's the anniversary of when we met."  _And the day we were reunited._ He didn't speak his last thought, but the expression on Wilford's face was enough. "Heh, I'm so forgetful, and yet you spoil me, Damien." "I won't have it any other way, Wil." He slid his hand slowly up William's spine, gently pushing him forward, pressing his body against Dark's.

"Bed, please." Wilford whined, his arms coiled tightly around Damien's shoulders, his head tucked next to the man's. Dark quickly tugged Wilford's shoes off before he stood, holding William in one arm without any issue, carrying him to his pastel pink sheet covered bed. Laying him on the sheets, Dark quickly undid his friend's pants tugging them off his body and felt his mouth dropped open slightly. "Damien?" "My, my, Wil. Wearing lingerie just for me? I believe that  _I'm_ the one being spoiled tonight." He wore plain pink thigh high stockings and rose pink lace panties, a wet patch right were the head of his penis was. "So wet for me as well." Dark purred seductively as he stripped out of his jacket and dress shirt, not forgetting that his pants were resting against his thighs. "You must really be enjoying what you see, beautiful." Wilford got off his back then, turning so he was on his hands and knees, crawling closer to the demon, one hand wrapping around the base of his member as he leaned forward and licked at the tip. "Shit!" Dark groaned, his hand falling on top of Wil's head, keeping his hair out of his face as he rocked back and forth on his knees, sucking him like a piece of candy.

"Stop." He commanded, watching as William came off his cock with a little wet pop. "On your back again, kitten." Dark ordered as he walked over to the nightstand, opening the top drawer and pulling out a bottle of lube. Wilford watched as Dark stripped out of the rest of his clothes, crawling onto the bed over him, the lube being tossed next to his flaming hot body, his brown orbs unable to tear away from the sight before him. Damien felt Wil's eyes on his cock and didn't mind; it took him some time to get use to the fact that the only normal color that returns to his skin is when his either aroused or when his body is extremely flushed. His cool skin was a sharp contrast with William's burning flesh and his momentary lover gasped at his touch as his fingers curled around the top of his panties, slowly pulling them away from his hips. His dick sprang free and Damien fell upon it, licking and suckling the head of his penis as he stripped his panties the rest if the way off.

"Damien...Damien..! Oh, fuck, please..!" "Quiet, my beloved, I'm right here." He comforted as he slotted himself between William's legs, forming their bodies together. "Can you be rough with me tonight?" Damien's eyes widen at the request. "May I ask why?" He swallowed down his nerves, wetting his lips before he answered. "I...feel like I see who you really are when you're rough with me." It was true, Dark couldn't keep his old memories buried when he got rough with Wilford, calling him by the man's real name several times before. "...Are you truly okay with me calling you William?" It was the only honest concern Damien still had; Wil had looked so offended every time he had said his real name when he reached his orgasm in the past. "It...always feels so familiar when you say it, Damien. Like some forgotten memory trying to break through the sea of my mind." Dark held his breath for a moment at the other's words.

How close was he now to remembering his past,  **their** past? Was this what he needed to fully recall it all? Hell, even how he had said his words just now felt like he  had remembered some of it, telling Damien that he wanted to remember even more by calling him by his true name. "As long as you're comfortable with me calling you William, then I'll happily grant your request." "I am, honest." Dark smiled that warm grin again, hearing once more as Wilford's heart skipped a beat, dripping down and kissing the man passionately. He grabbed the bottle of lube and flipped the cap open, squeezing a health amount onto his fingers before closing it and tossing it off the bed. "Spread your legs more, Wil." He did as ordered and hissed softly at the burn when Dark pushed both of his lubed digits into his hole. Since Wil wanted him to be rough with him, he was only going to prep him for so long; he was starting to lose patience with his own libido, wanting to bury himself deep inside of him so badly it pissed him off.

William's back arched when Dark hooked his fingers, his head falling back as he let out a throaty moan. "Does my baby boy like it when I touch him here?" Damien asked, stroking the tips of his fingers against Wil's prostate. "Yes! Oh, fuck, f-fuck, yes I do, Damien... Oh God..." He could keep still as he slowly stroked his sweet spot over and over, his head lolling from side to side, his back in a near permanent arch off his sheets. A high whine left his lips when Dark withdrew his fingers, but he instantly forgot that as he felt the head of his cock pressing against his entrance, whatever excess lube he still had on his fingers smeared onto his throbbing member. "Relax, gorgeous. Slow breaths." He reminded the man under him before he snapped his hips and earned a moaned gasp from William. His cock was leaking so much pre-cum that it was pooling on his tummy, Damien bending down and licking it off as he waited for Wilford to even his breathing.

"Damien...Damien..." He softly chanted, his eyes totally blown out as he tried to relax his body; Dark took the moment to decorate the Colonel's skin with butterfly kisses, hushing reassurances and comforts into his skin. Wilford looked down their connected bodies and saw that Dark hadn't removed his stockings. "Do you like them?" Damien heard Wil asked and ran his hand over his left leg. "I've always liked them on you, Wil. And like I said, pink's always been a good color on you." Wilford blushed, darting his eyes away. They snapped back, however, when Dark grabbed his ankles and hooks his legs over his shoulders, folding his body in half; it was his lone indicator that the other man was about to move.

The echo of skin slapping against skin highlighted William's moans as Damien angled his hips just right after a few thrusts, pounding into his sweet spot without mercy. "Damien! D-Damien! Damien, Damien, oh fuck..! Dai **men**..!" His toes had curled tight, his legs gone taunt as blinding pleasure flooded his veins. "Wil...Wil...shit, William..." Damien muttered, his hand finding one of Wil's and taking hold, using it to help ground him as he got lost in his own bliss. They soon could slip nothing but pants, Dark descending onto Wilford's lips, bruising them with rough kisses and bites, picking up the pace as he felt William's free hand clawing at his back and shoulders as best as he could.

"Fuck, Damien, I'm so close..!" "Hold on a little longer, my desire." Wil whined, but nodded his head, holding onto the back of Dark's neck to try and ground himself for a few moments longer. Dark grasped Warfstache's neglected member in his free hand, pumping him in time with his thrusts, wanting his friend to fall off the edge with him. "I can't! I-I can't..! Damien, I can't, I can't, I'm gonna come..!" "Scream my name when you do, William. And come. Come for me." "Shit, shit, fuck, Goddamn it, fuck,  **DAMIEN**! OH!" William bellowed as he climaxed hard, his load shooting out with enough force to nick his chin; as his inner walls tightened suddenly around his dick, Damien flew off the edge with his friend, moaning out his name as he filled him with his seed.

"Are you alright, Wil?" Dark asked as he collapsed on top of his friend, his legs slipping off his shoulders as he fell, both panting hard as they slowly came down from their high. "Yes. Oh, fuck. I needed this." Dark chuckled softly, finally slipping out of Wilford, falling onto his left side. "Where are you going?" Wilford asked as Dark started to get up. "I'm not going far, my dear." He said as he slid off the bed, going back to the nightstand and pulling out the pack of wet wipes from inside. Wilford laughed to himself as Dark came back. "How could I forget that you do aftercare?" "Heh, it's been so long since you've needed it that that doesn't surprise me. Besides, I didn't want to chance your sheets getting stained." Dark chatted with Wil as he cleaned both of them up. As Dark got off the bed once more, Wilford took the chance to crawl under his sheets, his sweat soaked skin getting cooled instantly by the fabric that wasn't under the heated dance that happened mere moments ago.

William's eyes opened again, not noticing that he had closed them, when he felt the bed dip again, someone crawling under the sheets behind him. He turned to find that it was Dark's arm that snaked around his waist. "What's the matter?" Wilford asked as he turned to face the demon. Dark was quiet for a long time, his eyes just holding Wilford's. He felt so many emotions right now, he didn't even know which one was on his face or even in his eyes; oh, how he wished that he had better control over his powers when he got emotional. Dark wasn't a man that had many fears, but he did have one: he was afraid to lose William; his trust, his friendship, the deeply buried love he knew the man had for him. He was scared to lose any of it. "...It's nothing. Just thinking." He cupped his cheek as he kissed his forehead lightly. "Get some rest, Wil." "Will you be here when I wake up?" He asked, his eyes full of fear that Dark was just using him for some personal relief. "I will. I promise."

Wilford gave him a weak smile as he held in a yawn, scooting closer to the other man, tucking his head under his chin as he wrapped his arms around his torso, and drifted to sleep. "I swear that I will  **never** leave you, William. I promise." He whispered into his friend's hair, placing a kiss to the crown of his head before he too, drifted into a blank slumber.


End file.
